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/*TO HERE IF YOU WANNA GET RID OF SHADOWS. THIS IS ALSO A GOOD PLACE TO CHANGE THE STYLES*/
/*music*/
/*OKAY!!! BILLY PLAYER IS THE BEST PLACE TO FIND STYLISH MUSIC PLAYERS. A TUTORIAL: http://jollythemes.tumblr.com/post/42360414845/how-to-put-billy-music-player-to-your-blog AND A REMINDER THAT I'VE ALREADY ADDED A PLACE FOR THE MUSIC IN THE CUSTOMIZATION BAR.*/
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/*TO HERE*/
/************** FLAGS UPDATES TAB **************/
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/* to here */
/*OKAY!!! ALL THESE PURPLE AND BLUE BRACKETS ARE PLACES WHERE YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR PHOTO SIZES. IF YOU CHANGE THE SIZES, GO TO
PhotoURL-400 AND CHANGE 400 TO 250, 500, OR 700. OR YOU CAN LEAVE IT THE SAME. YOU CAN DO THE SAME FOR PHOTOSETS.
Photoset-250 GOES FOR THE SAME NUMBERS.*/
Guidelines
( k. speaks )
My name is krissy, and I'm 21+ I do have two other RP accounts that are active to semi-active, so please be patient. I do have a skype, and if you'd like it for plotting or chatting, just message me!
( the blog )
This is a selective blog, so I will be selective in who I interact with. Starter calls are for mutuals only. I will most likely only thread with mutuals as well. Memes (munday, sentence, headcanon prompts, ect), however, are for everyone to send in.
Please do not steal my graphics, headcanons, or world-building & character concepts. I work very, very hard on all of these things, so just don't take them. There's a fine line between being inspired by and stealing. Don't reblog and claim as your own, either. These are not free for use. If you're not sure, just talk to me about it. Only a select few people have permission to use my headcanons and concepts.
( on threads )
My rping style varies. Sometimes I will do more formatting than others, though the most formatting I do is indenting, small text, and fiddling with bold and italics. I prefer lit rps, and I will happily do long (multi para) and short (a sentence to one para) rps. Starter calls are generally for short rps. Plotting is fun, and so are spontaneous things. Sentence memes can absolutely be turned into threads!
( shipping )
For shipping, chemistry is key. I am very open to all sorts of ships, inside and outside of romance.
( exclusivity )
If you are interested in being exclusive with me, and building on our portrayals with eachother, contact me! We have to have interacted before, however. A list of my exclusives can be found on my updates tabs.
Wild is the music of the autumnal wind
Basics
Name: Lelaros
Age: 18 during Inquisition, 20 during Trespasser
Date of Birth: Mid-Autumn
Height: 5'3"
Sex: Female
Gender: Genderfluid
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Pansexual
Family:Mallel (birth parent), Unnamed father, Feylhen (older brother)
Languages: A little bit of everything, because of traveling. Speaks with an Orlesian accent, won't say if it's fake or not.
Prefered Weapons: Long range. Specializes in bow and spear/javelin. Caries twin daggers, but doesn't much like hand to hand combat.
Faceclaim: Jessica Parker Kennedy
Lelaros is all legs and slender, but with soft curves. His eyes are hazel, and depending on the light and the color he's wearing they can appear light brown or yellow, and sometimes even green. His hair is dark, but full of rich browns and dark red tones, and in the sunlight the red shows through very well. It's long, about mid back and curly.
His style of dress is very dependent on how he feels day to day. Sometimes binding and a nice tunic and leggings will suffice. Other days it's vibrant low bodiced dresses with full skirts. There's rarely any in between. In the relative privacy of his own room, it's usually a robe, a sheet or nothing at all. Whether tunic or dress, it's likely he made it himself. He favors autumnal colors; reds, golds, yellows, oranges. Brown isn't a favorite of his, but he can work with it. He loves patterns, and experimenting with them to see what will work together.
He enjoys wearing pretty clips in his hair, and often it's worn down, but partly braided with beads or clips or both. Often he can be seen wearing pretty rings and bracelets. Don't ask him wear they came from, he won't tell you.
As he's still so young, Lelaros still has a baby face at times. Sometimes it's hard to tell how youthful he is, especially when he wears his kohl around his eyes and has his curls all done up nicely. But other times, it's very easy to see, when he dresses more masculine and doesn't apply his kohl, and wears his hair pulled back (aka, when he isn't all "fancied" up). He definitely, for the most part, tries to make himself seem older than he actually is on most days.
Put simply, Lelaros can be a handful. He is a near constant ball of upbeat energy, bouncing here there and everywhere. He's not one to dwell on things he can't fix, such as his exile or being disheartened by his brother's approval of it.
He is fiery and stubborn, traits he gets from Mallel. While friendly and outgoing, most people are unassumingly kept at arm's length until he believes they can be trusted. He's flirty, though it's usually of the playful sort. Physical modesty is not one of his strong points, though most especially within the privacy of his own room and he won't apologize for that.
Lelaros is quite good at pushing people's buttons, but knowing when to back off. He can be a bit of a brat and quite vain when the mood suits him. He's very clever, though rarely lets it be seen, prefering to let all those besides the ones he trusts to severely underestimate him. Streetwise, he's very bright, and has learned to swindle and network with the best of them with his easy charm and friendliness.
But he's also very kind and very generous, when he wishes to be, or when it serves him, and so very willing to help out anyone in need. That nature was part of the reason he was set on becoming a Jenny, to help people who can't help themselves, because he knows what it's like not to be able to help himself. But Lelaros is sharp as a tact, and can tell when people are trying to take advantage of his generosity.
He also has a bit of a darker side to him, one that people rarely get to see because it's so well hidden. Lelaros can absolutely be a very selfish person, and there are very few people whom he wouldn't throw under the cart to save his own skin if he's in an extreme pinch. He's very flawed, with very grey morals. He's very ambitious, and there is little he won't do to achieve his goals. He has a very, very hard time connecting to people emotionally, due to extreme mental abuse growing up. It's like a switch he flipped off when he was at his most broken down, and he hasn't been able to turn it back on. He is a very broken and fragile person, but all of that is shoved down deep inside and he believes he has better things to do than to try and fix himself.
Lelaros is the youngest son of chief of a highly reclusive dalish clan. His brother, Feylhen, remembers their mother well. Lelaros doesn't remember her at all and knows precious little other than she left sometime between his first and second year. All he had of her as a child were bitter biting remarks from his father and brother that he was too much like her, and disapproving looks from other memebers of the clan. As a child, he never understood what they meant, only that they cut very deeply. Even now Lelaros isn't sure. When he was older, he did begin to recieve letters from his mother, though he burned them as soon as he read them and replied in fear of his father and brother knowing.
As he grew, Lelaros noticed that sometimes he was comfortable in dresses, and other times he was comfortable wearing his brother's old clothes. He grew to have a hoard of them, though whenever Feylhen would find it, they would be taken and quickly cut up and used for other things. And it wasn't a subject that his father nor brother would speak to him about. This only paved the way for Lelaros' rebellious streak to grow and flourish, much to his father's disappointment. He was wild in his early teens, which only furthered the animosity towards him within the family and within the majority of the clan.
When things came to a boiling point and his father had had enough of his ways. Coupled with the whispered rumors that Lelaros was a blood mage like his mother, Lelaros was exiled from the clan. He never received his vallaslin, an insult to injury. It would've been Ghilan'nain. While it hurt him, he knew there was nothing he could say nor do to plead his case, not with his father and brother so resentful. He packed his things and left in the night, and Mallel (birth parent) met him to guide him to a safe place to gather himself and his thoughts. He stays with Mallel for a few days before heading off on his own path and away from the forests he called home.
Free from his clan's influence, Lelaros feels more comfortable within his own skin and begins dressing whatever way he wishes to. He begins to refer to himself as 'he' instead of 'she', though not because he has more masculine days than feminine or neutral ones, but because he liked the sound of it and for him, it felt safer and more comfortable than 'she'. He believes very strongly that that was partly due to his father and brother. Often he wonders if it didn't hold such negativity for him personally if he would still go by 'she'. Even to this day his gender confuses him, but he's much more sure, confident and content with himself.
After leaving Mallel, Lelaros ends up being taken in by a woman whom owns an inn and tavern called La Petite Rose on the outskirts of Val Fontaine. Ros worked as a waitress ( and often times for extra coins, worked upstairs ) at the inn. The other girls there took him under their wing, taught him the languages, reading, writing, math. He was bright and quick. It was there at the inn where he began to realize his talent for getting secrets and gathering information, and where he learned he could use his body as a weapon.
Lelaros hears about the Inquisition while working as a Jenny and through the grapevine. Many of his friends (and Friends) stay behind, though he travels to see what it's all about, and if he can help.
So, Ros was the famous nameless cousin. Now that Gimli had a
good look at him, he could see a vague resemblance. “I’ve been ta Rohan many
times,” he said getting a bit more comfortable and sitting down on a chair that
might have been too large for his small body. “They looked at me funny, too.
Don’t really know why as Lady Eowyn was more than gracious ta me. I told her
about dwarrowdams. Ya ever met one of those on yer travels, Ros?”
“Not on my travels, no.” Far and wide he’d wandered, but never on those roads had he come across any dwarves that he could remember. Perhaps they took different roads than his people, or took the same path at different times. “But I’ve seen ‘em. I used to sell things in Dale before the dragon came. Saw lots of ‘em selling things just like I was. They bought things from me, I bought things from them.” And never once did they question his use of ‘he’, even when his breasts were in plain sight. He didn’t have to be on guard with them like he did Men.
Her presence in the marketplace made little sense, as it often did. Neither tasked with overseeing the trade of wines as her adar did, neither overly interested in the wares of others as naneth oft was, the elleth flitted restlessly from place to place, trying to occupy her time without showing too much how much she longed to be in the sanctuary of her garden, with a blade in hand and the straw puppet the perfect victim for honing her skills. There was nothing that quite caught her fancy, but she keeps looking, if anything to keep ennui at bay.
“I…” she flustered upon hearing the answer, not really knowing how to admit that she was looking at the wares, but not actually seeing them. “I’m looking for a gift for naneth. But I admit to being quite undecided upon what I wish to gift her.” A nice save and perhaps not a complete lie; she had been meaning to buy her mother something in thanks for the new scabbard she herself had received during Yuletide, a perfect fit for her slightly worn, yet much loved sword.
“What’s she like, then, your amar? Got lots of things to sell.” Nothing too heavy, this time, few fabrics and no furs. Just things that were easy to transport. Beads, trinkets, jewelry, hair clips and accessories. Lightweight and easy to pack up when the time came. For now, all his wares were on display in the little stall he’d rented for the day. It was a decent spot in the market, and business was better than he was expecting. He’d sold a few of his person pieces, as well as a few things for others in the Gais D’rak.
“Don’t have many fabrics this time, but I’ve got a blanket or two I’ve woven. And if you don’t want fabrics, I’ve got beads for weaving into hair or makin’ your own jewelry, and ready-made jewelry, too.”
more under read more . feel most free to change pronouns , etc .
❝ coward ! don’t EVER show your face here again ! ❞ ❝ tell me … do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls ? ❞ ❝ not just for me , but for all of our people … lend me your power . ❞ ❝ please … please tell me … ❞ ❝ i believe i understand now just who and what you are . ❞ ❝ i … see you later .. ❞ ❝ your heart and mine were / are as one . ❞ ❝ do you now understand what i am ? ❞ ❝ it is time for you to choose : surrender or die . ❞ ❝ light and shadow are two sides of the same coin . one can’t exist without the other . ❞ ❝ now , don’t resent me for all i’ve put you through . ❞ ❝ a carefree youth , a life of luxury . how does that teach duty ? ❞ ❝ honey , that is what i call RUDE ! ❞ ❝ if there is anything you desire , then i shall desire it , too . ❞ ❝ why do you defy your king ? ❞ ❝ there’s nothing that looks good on me in this town .. ❞ ❝ no wonder some call you “hero” . ❞ ❝ i thought i could use you , ___ . ❞ ❝ you still live … how astonishing . ❞ ❝ hurry up and return to your true self . ❞ ❝ whenever i thought i couldn’t go on , i would think of you and hold on . ❞ ❝ and what happened ? she was already gone , and there were TWO monsters waiting ! …you connecting the dots ? that means that if we get attacked by them , then we’ll be … ❞ ❝ you poor thing … ❞ ❝ when we were young , you and i … you were always there … you were always beside me . ❞ ❝ light and shadow can’t mix , as we all know . ❞ ❝ this is truly a bittersweet reunion … truly ! for i fear this is the last time i will see you alive ! ❞ ❝ um … you’re not gonna mention this to anyone , are you ? ❞ ❝ yo ! don’t waste food ! ❞ ❝ you can look at stuff , but don’t you DARE just take things . ❞ ❝ you’ll have to be my servant … and like a servant , you’ll have to do exactly as i say ! ❞ ❝ get off your high horse . ❞ ❝ if you wanna get past here , you’d better start talking , fast . ❞ ❝ i understand what ____ meant when he told me i needed to be stronger , like you , ____ … he wasn’t talking about strength , like lifting stuff . he was talking about being brave . ❞ ❝ i’’m sorry , but would you leave me be ? ❞ ❝ you’ve gotta teach me how to use a sword , too ! ❞ ❝ WHOA ! it … it’s a MONSTER ! EVERYBODY RUN !!! ❞ ❝ shadow has been moved by light , it seems . ❞ ❝ do not think this ends here … ❞ ❝ a sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage .❞ ❝ i don’t think i could be more miserable . ❞ ❝ but … are you really sure you should be going back ? ❞ ❝ an impressive-looking blade … but nothing more . ❞
“What other reason is there?” If Alana was to be honest, they missed having daily chores to fill their time. It had never been about the work, but the security of knowing the people beside them could be counted on - for anything.
That feeling was lacking here, and they loathed its absence. Their fault, always their fault.
Alana meets Lelaros’ look - maybe that feeling is something they could find again.
“I’ve never had the chance.”
“Plenty of other reasons, really.”
And most made more sense than just drinking while bored. He’d seen it all. Drinking to drive away pain, drinking to forget, drinking to celebrate, drinking because of a rough day or a broken heart. The list goes on and on. But boredom? That was never any reason to wake up with a hangover.
“Well now you do. So come on and we’ll play a round or too. Probably more fun than drinking alone.”
Andraste have mercy on this poor man. Delrin turned to face the elf and saw he was in no better state of dress, and was much more physically close. Green eyes locked onto the pair opposite, unmoving, but his much taller tature lent a very small window to how much of his peripheral vision he was able to ignore until the tops of Lelaros’s breasts came into view.
“I meant only to preserve your decency. The body is nothing to be ashamed of, but… I was caught off guard. Even if I hadn’t been startled, surely you wouldn’t have preferred I blatantly stare.” The moment the words left his lips, regret and dread began to stir in his gut. He would regret saying that, he could tell.
Barris took the shirt, and his gaze cast immediately down to examine it, momentarily breaking their eye contact. “Cullen?” His gauntlet traced over a piece of the stitching, and then he looked back squarely into Lelaros’s eyes once more. He gave a firm nod - not only agreeing to the favor, but also acknowledging the other’s capabilities to protect himself, as well as his mistake about the Friend’s gender.
“Not a lady,” He repeated aloud. “Understood. I apologize for the mistake, ser. I’ll do my best to commit it to memory.” The unrelenting stare Barris kept up undeniably assured Lelaros of his sincerity.
To his great relief, talking about something other than breasts was making Barris gradually less tense. He was slowly composing himself, most likely due to his inherent inability to prioritize a nipple over helping someone else, no matter how small the favor. Despite this, he felt oddly protective of how other people may see the half-nude elf… and how they may see him in a staring contest with him.
“I’ve no doubts you can take care of yourself… But for my own peace of mind, let me walk you back in - if only to ensure that scenarios ‘b’ through ’d’ aren’t necessary.” Purposely acting before the other could argue, Barris draped the borrowed shirt over Lelaros’s shoulders and began steering him back toward the door. The templar showed no feelings of urgency as he did so, reverting back to his dutiful and honorable manner.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have cared, really.” Those who knew him knew he had little modesty when it came to his body inside his room. He supposed that was what growing up with the Dalish gifted him, one of the very few things, and it was hardly a gift at all. “But if you get to know me better, you’ll learn that in time. Gotta number of ‘weird’ quirks.”
He tilted his head, watching Barris inspect the shirt curiously. “Cullen, yeah. He’s Commander ‘round here. Mended that for him this morning, but as I’ve got business to attend to later, well. Don’t have time to give it to him. And if you ever need anything fixed, door’s always open. drop it in the basket with a note. I accept favors or coin.” Were
Knight-Commander’s
rich?
“It’s fine. Don’t really mind too much. It’s complicated. Call me Lelaros either way. Ser’s too fancy for me.”
With little protest, Lelaros allowed Barris to guide him back to his room, finding the whole situation amusing. He didn’t care what others would think, but the image of the
Knight-Commander’s
ushering a half naked elf wearing the Commander’s shirt back to the elf’s room would surely be a riot. And who knows what gossipers would do to that sort of story.
“Desserts are a few of the sacred things left in this world. That and drink. When you turn either into shams it’s wholly unforgivable.” Teller was better at keeping his expression neutral, as if the topic held the utmost severity, and yet he still cracked around the edges. Briefly a smile curled one side of his mouth, and he shook his head as if to try and ward it off.
“Aye good, and yeah greedy, don’t think I’m blind t’how you can just get whatever you’d like in your grip. I offered because I’m fuckin’ kind.” Oh, nope, his expression couldn’t keep through that, and his lips cracked into a delighted smile. “Well, sometimes.”
Gently Teller pressed a hand to his chest, as if miming that Lelaros had landed the most gracious of comments. “Why–I’m touched and afraid. Although I got a natural kick for fightin’ against most compliments, even if you got yourself a wicked gift for it.”
“Well I’ll have to agree with you on that.” He could see Teller cracking, and it made him grin. But Teller was right. Desserts were incredible, and though Lelaros didn’t care if some were shams as long as they were sweet, he could understand. He did, after all, have an extreme sweet tooth, and a love for good wine.
“I can’t help I’m charming and have a knack for talking people into giving me things. And it’d be a shame to have this gift and not use it.” Grinning wider, he nudged Teller gently with an elbow. Even the rough and tumblr man could be kind when he wanted to be. Fancy that. “Guess that makes me special, then, yeah?”
Lelaros took another sip from the bottle, trying to hide his smile now. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. Won’t use that sort of thing on you.”
All things considered, despite his lyrium dependence, Samson was as healthy as they came. He had no allergies, rarely became sick and could withstand chilly temperatures with ease. He had aches and pains that most men his age did, but considering the life he’d led, he should have been a twisted, gnarled old thing, thin and shaking.
Maker, he was glad he was made to fight.
“Someplace t’lie down?”
If he was going to wait on a tincture of some sort, he wanted to at least be horizontal.
For half a beat he hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to guide Samson back to his room. After all, he’d no idea who he was. Could be a killer for all he knew. Probably was one, really. This place seemed to attract a rough crowd at times (like himself).
“Follow me.”
But he was already too far in as it was, and he couldn’t say no now. At least he’d surely get a favor out of this somehow, and a mighty big one, he’d make sure of it.
The rift of laughter–how odd how he still felt inclined to use that word in his thoughts, given the nature of what they were connected to now–brought around a smile as he watched the other. Never had he ever found reason to complain in the company of Friends, for they seemed to operate on a wavelength he took to easily. He understood them–it didn’t matter what face they wore, what skin they were wrapped in, or what sort of blood pumped in their heart. It was more about the fight in their hearts, and how his own echoed that wardrum. He could rely on Friends in a way that came effortlessly, even if the other sort took far too long to root and grow.
“Well–s’not mine, but I’ve got the proper connections and say to might as well make it so. Stacking up favors helps along that, as does cinching a line of pivotal trade–having m’own though? Oh I’d be more terror than Friend if that came to be, might have to learn Rivaini if I ever manage that. But that’s it–large ones, all sails and towering masts.”
The fondness in his voice gave away the affection towards it–how easy to talk of ships with blatant openness when he had trouble ever saying it concerning another person.
“Oh you seem like the sort who can charm whatever th’fuck you want out of someone. If you want more of that, Red Work, I don’t see why you can’t drag along with me.”
“Sounds like you consider it yours, even if it’s not exactly yours. But havin’ your own ship doesn’t sound too bad. You’d never have to give it up. And sounds like you’d be a pirate. I don’t see too much of a difference between being a pirate and being a Friend. Other than a pirate takes from anyone and everyone. But think about it, you could be the first pirate Friend. Operate on the seas. Take down wealthy merchants. Could be fun.”
He flashed the man a sly grin, looking entirely proud of the assumption, which was very much on point. There were few who stood a chance against his undeniable charms. Solas was one, but one day he’d get him to crack.
“Glad you noticed. I’ve been told I’m very good at what I do. But yeah, we should do that, then. Red Work. I’d be happy to go along with you. When are you leaving next?”
Surra can’t help but grin at the youngling’s words. “Nothing wrong with being hands-on, pup.”
This one’s as blunt as the people of Redhold; she likes that. Not as uptight as most of the cityfolk she’s come across, even though he dresses like one. Her eyes flicker up and down his form as she crosses her arms over her chest and lifts and eyebrow. “Can’t see myself ever wearing one of those rack-traps,” she replies amiably, tilting her head and spilling honeyed curls over one shoulder. She values breathing too much. And besides
—
“If I want my breasts to look amazing, I’ll just take off my armor. Solves that problem nice and easy.”
“Oh, I know. I enjoy it very much.” An innuendo? Probably.
He grins, sly and sweet. “I’d do that too, but it’s not exactly accepted in certain situations. Gotta give people a good peek sometimes, yeah? And then while they’re looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, you can get whatever information you want out of ‘em. ‘Rack-traps’ work like a charm.”